“You honor me, Bright One.” Briana bowed. “Anything you can offer would—”
A small door behind the golden throne banged open and a tall warrior in the armor of a Keeper’s Blade strode into the room. By the way the tall woman prowled across the hall toward the Pharus, Aisha knew she had to be Callista Vinaus, Lady of Blades. A hard woman with a hard face and a commander’s poise. The anger burning in her eyes froze over when she caught sight of Briana and the others. Without a word, she marched toward the Pharus and whispered something into his ear.
Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres’ face creased into a scowl. “Finally,” he snapped. “And here I was believing you and your trusted men were as incompetent as the Keeper’s Council insists you are.”
Lady Callista Vinaus remained silent at the insult, her expression revealing nothing.
“I will accompany you shortly. But first.” He turned to Briana. “Tell me, my lady, what brings you to me today?”
Confusion twisted Briana’s face. “You…summoned me, sire.”
“Summoned?” The Pharus frowned. “You are certain?”
“Yes, Bright One. Your messenger—”
Pharus Amhoset’s eyes narrowed. “I sent no messenger, no summons.”
Briana paled, her breath catching in her lungs.
Aisha’s mind raced. If not the Pharus, then who?
“Then I beg my Pharus’ humble pardon,” Briana replied, her voice almost strangled. “I must have been mistaken.”
The Pharus nodded. “No matter.” He fixed her with a curious gaze. “But the time may come when I do send word. When I do, be ready.”
“Of course, Bright One.” With a deep bow, Briana turned and strode from the Throne Room, just as the Pharus departed on the heels of Lady Callista.
Briana’s face was pale, her finger white around Kodyn’s arm. The moment they were outside the Throne Room and out of earshot of the Blades standing guard, Briana turned to them. “Whoever sent that messenger had access to the livery of the Pharus’ official messengers. Someone powerful, from here in the palace, and they forged that message to get us out of my father’s mansion!”
Kodyn cursed. “We need to get back to your house, now.”
As they hurried down the gold-and-silver-tiled corridors toward the front, Aisha felt a sick sense of dread forming in her stomach. Whatever awaited them at Suroth’s mansion couldn’t be good.
Chapter Eight
Kodyn galloped ahead of the slow-moving, slave-borne palanquin in his haste to return to the mansion. Trusting Aisha and the armored Blade to keep Briana safe, he urged his horse to move faster through the late-afternoon crowds.
His breath caught in his chest as Arch-Guardian Suroth’s mansion came into view. A wall of heavyset spearmen wearing burnished steel breastplates atop black robes stood before the front gate. Five stood off to the side, holding their long spears leveled at Rothin and his men, who had been stripped of their gilded breastplates and short swords. All of Suroth’s servants stood on the street as well, watching the spectacle in wide-eyed horror.
“Nessa, what’s going on?” Kodyn called as he reined in his horse.
“The Necroseti’s guards are removing all of the Arch-Guardian’s belongings!” Nessa’s eyes were wide, her face a mask of mingled outrage and shock. “Everything!”
Sure enough, as Kodyn leapt down from his horse, he caught a glimpse of the mansion’s interior through the open gate. Bareheaded Kabili and Earaqi laborers wearing the black robes of Necroseti servants hauled Suroth and Briana’s belongings out in armfuls and dumped them atop the mountain of clothing and furniture that lay heaped in the center of the courtyard.
Kodyn strode toward the guards barring the gate. He searched out the one that seemed in charge, a pudgy man with drooping jowls and a permanent sneer. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.
“Step back, foreigner,” barked the guard. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“It damned well does!” Anger surged within Kodyn’s chest. “I am Lady Briana’s personal protector, contracted by the Arch-Guardian himself. As such, I am fully within my rights to demand you explain what in the fiery hell you’re doing!” He bared his teeth, hand dropping to his sword.
The Necroseti’s guards responded in a moment, and Kodyn found himself facing half a dozen sharp steel spearheads. Clearly they had prepared for resistance.
“Kodyn?” Briana’s voice echoed from behind him, and Kodyn turned to find Briana peering out from her palanquin. The moment the slaves set the litter down, Briana stepped out and stalked toward them, Aisha and the Blade on her heels.
Anger flashed in Briana’s eyes. “Explain yourself!” She fixed her gaze on the heavyset guard barring Kodyn’s path. “You know who I am, who my father was.”
“We know,” the man said with a nod. He drew a scroll from within his black robes and thrust it roughly at Briana. “This will explain everything.”
Briana tore the scroll from his grasp and unrolled it, hands trembling with fury. Her eyes went wide as she read and her lips pressed into a tight line. By the time her gaze reached the seal at the bottom of the scroll, she looked ready to rip the fat man’s head from his shoulders with her bare hands.
“You cannot be serious!” Briana snarled at the guard. “My father’s body has not yet been interred in the Keeper’s Crypts and your masters pull this?”
“We have our orders.” The guard tried to fake an apologetic expression, but it just came off as smug. “As you can see, it bears the seal of the Keeper’s Council. If you and your…” He shot a derisive look at Kodyn. “…companions interfere, we will be forced to summon the Indomitables and have you arrested.”
“Arrested for what?” The question came from the Blade, Hykos. He pushed through the servants clustered around the gate and strode toward the guards. His mailed fists hung by his side and he made no move to draw the huge two-handed sword on his back, but he loomed nearly a head taller than the fat guard. Though the two men might have weighed about the same, Hykos was solid muscle and plate mail.
“This is a Necroseti matter,” snapped the guard, though his golden skin turned a shade paler, “not the business of the Keeper’s Blades.”
“Everything in Shalandra is the Blades’ business.” Hykos spoke in a calm voice, but it held an edge of menace. “As servants of the Long Keeper, we are sworn to serve the city of Shalandra and protect its people from any threat.”
“And, as servants of the Keeper’s Council, we are sworn to carry out the duties assigned to us by the Necroseti.” The guard tried to hold his head higher, which only served to emphasize the width of his second chin and the canine sag of his jowls.
Just then, another man appeared from within Suroth’s mansion. Black robes clung tight to his pudgy frame and drooping belly, and a golden band encircled his sweaty forehead.
“Angrak?” Briana’s question rang out in the courtyard. “You are the one behind this?”
The man looked up, and his rotund face grew smug. A self-satisfied smile spread his fleshy lips as he strode toward them. “Briana, I am glad to see—”
“Oh, cut the horse-shite,” Briana snapped.
Kodyn stifled a grin. Glad to see the Night Guild’s rubbing off on her.
“You really expect me to believe this?” The Shalandran girl waved the scroll at him like a sword. “This is my father’s house—”
“As the document proclaims clearly, this residence is, in fact, the property of the city of Shalandra.” Kodyn hadn’t thought Angrak’s expression could grow any more priggish—he was wrong. The man actually puffed up like a Voramian balloonfish. “Specifically, the Keeper’s Council.”
“My father lived here my entire life!” Briana snapped.
“For the duration of his tenure on the Keeper’s Council, yes.” Angrak’s nod set his cheeks wobbling like congealed pig fat. “But, with his passing, his seat must be filled. The Council has elected me to serve in his place and, as such, this mansion will now b
e my residence.”
Fury boiled bright and hot within Kodyn. He seriously considered drawing his sword and cutting the man down. With Aisha and Hykos beside him, he’d place good odds on defeating the Necroseti’s guards.
“The Keeper’s Council wastes no time, do they?” Briana made no attempt to disguise her anger. “They hated my father because he wasn’t a Necroseti, and the moment he dies—protecting them, no less—they replace him with a sniveling lickspittle like you.”
Outrage flashed across Angrak’s face. “Watch your tongue, girl. You are speaking to a member of the Keeper’s Council, now. And a Dhukari, while you are nothing more than Zadii!”
Briana’s eyes flew wide. “What?”
“Did your father not tell you?” Angrak puffed up his chest and cheeks once more, and it took all of Kodyn’s self-control not to drive his fist into the man’s pudgy jaw. “The rank of Dhukari was bestowed upon him when he was elevated to the Keeper’s Council, but only as long as he served as a Councilor. Now that his Council seat has been given to another, you return to your true caste.”
Confusion twisted Kodyn’s brow. How in the hell is that possible? In Praamis, once someone received a patent of nobility, the only way to lose their titles was to have them revoked by King Ohilmos—as Lord Mayharn Stonecroft had learned after it was discovered that he was working with the Bloody Hand to traffic Bonedust and enslaved women into the city.
Yet, one look at Briana’s pale face told Kodyn that the priggish Dhukari nobleman was telling the truth. The girl brought a hand to her throat and seemed to struggle to find words.
Angrak produced another scroll from within his robes. “But the Keeper’s Council is as generous as they are wise. In gratitude for your father’s sacrifice and long years of service, they have procured a comfortable house for you on the Artisan’s Tier, just east of the Temple District.” A sneer twisted his fat lips as he held out the scroll. “There, you can live among your fellow Zadii and remain close to the Secret Keepers that served your father.”
“Really?” Aisha’s eyes flashed as she towered over the fat Necroseti. “You send a messenger to summon her to the palace on a false pretext, then do this while she is away?”
Angrak tried to conceal any hint of guilt. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He failed miserably; his face and unconvincing tone proclaimed his complicity clear as a town crier on a still morning.
“You bastard!” Aisha reached for her assegai. More of the Necroseti’s guards leveled spears at her, one actually pricking the side of her neck with a sharp tip.
Anger surged bright and hot within Kodyn as a trickle of bright crimson slid down Aisha’s neck. He ripped his sword from its sheath and struck out, knocking the spear away hard enough to send it flying from the guard’s grip. His left fist coiled back for a punch that would lay the man out on the ground. Before he could unleash the blow, five spear tips flashed toward him, aimed at his chest. A growl from the heavily-armored Hykos accompanied the ring of his huge flammard being drawn. In an instant, the Blade moved to stand beside Kodyn and fixed the spearmen with a fierce glare.
“Stop!” Briana spoke in a shaky, quiet voice. “There is nothing we can do.”
“I am glad to see you inherited at least a small measure of your father’s wisdom.” Angrak said, his tone dripping self-satisfaction. “Leash your hounds before they do anything foolish.”
Kodyn gritted his teeth; it took all his self control not to attack the man, threatening spears or no.
“Allow me to collect my and my father’s belongings and we will be on our way,” Briana said, gesturing to the mountain of clothes and furniture in the courtyard.
Angrak held up a pudgy hand to stop her. “Everything that belonged to your father, the Arch-Guardian of the Secret Keepers, has already been transported to your new home. But all of the trappings of the Dhukari and everything purchased with gold bestowed upon him for his service as a Councilor are now the property of the Keeper’s Council. It will remain here.”
Briana sucked in a breath. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“If you doubt me, check the Council’s decree.” He leaned forward, puffing up once more. “But you will find that I have the power of the Council to back me. You, you’re just a Zadii!” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Your father should never have spoken to me thus.”
He straightened and snapped his fingers, and a black-robed servant hurried forward carrying a cloth sack. “I have taken the liberties of procuring you proper attire for your new station.” From within the sack, he drew out headbands of braided sackcloth and canvas dyed white. “You are no longer fit to wear the gold.”
Briana stared at the cloth as if at a striking serpent. She seemed at a loss for words, but that only added to Angrak’s pleasure.
“Here.” He stuffed the headband into the sack and thrust it at her. “Consider it a parting gift from your newest Councilor.”
Aisha snatched the sack with such speed Angrak’s fat fingers didn’t have time to unclench before it was ripped from his hand. He stumbled slightly with the force and barely managed to catch himself.
Indignation flashed across his face. “Long Keeper speed you on your journey, young Zadii.” His words dripped venom and, with a glare, he spun on his heels and stalked back into the mansion.
Hykos fixed the Necroseti’s guards with a stern glare, his eyes sharp as the tip of his sword. A few shifted uncomfortably, but the leader held his ground. He believed himself unassailable, shielded by his authority as a servant of the Keeper’s priests.
Briana suddenly turned on her heel and strode away from the gate, back in the direction of her litter.
As she lifted a foot to climb in, the guard’s voice rang out behind her. “That, too, is the property of the Keeper’s Council. As are your litterbearers.”
Briana paused, then lowered her foot to the ground. Without a word, she turned away from the palanquin and marched up the road that led to the Path of Gold. Kodyn shot a venomous glare at the spearmen and whirled. He fell in step beside Briana, Aisha on her opposite side and Hykos bringing up the rear.
Nessa stepped into her path. “Forgive me, my lady. We were given no choice.”
Briana squeezed the Steward’s hands. “There is nothing to forgive, Nessa. You served my father well. I wish I could employ you, but you deserve far better than to serve a fellow Zadii.”
Nessa gave a dismissive wave. “None of us care what caste you are. We serve out of love for your father.”
“We?” Briana asked.
A rustle of clothing and shuffling of sandals echoed from behind them, and Kodyn turned to find two of the fifty-odd servants had moved toward them. Rothin joined them as well, a defiant snarl on his face.
Tears sprang to Briana’s eyes. “But I have no way to pay for—”
“Your father paid us more than enough.” Nessa cut her off with a shake of her head. “It will be a privilege to continue serving, in his memory.”
A little sob escaped Briana’s throat, but she swallowed it and scrubbed the moisture from her eyes. “Thank you, Nessa.” She glanced at Rothin and the other two—a portly woman Kodyn recognized as one of the cooks and Trant, a grey-haired servant that had been the only one permitted to clean Suroth’s study. “All of you.”
“Come, my lady.” Nessa wrapped an arm around Briana’s shoulders and steered her away from the mansion that she’d called home her entire life. “Your new life awaits.”
As Kodyn led the way toward the Path of Gold, he caught sight of an ornate palanquin sitting a short distance to the west. The fading daylight and the silk curtains concealed the litter’s occupant, but there was no mistaking the seven faces of the god of death etched in black and gold onto each of the litter’s four posts.
The Keeper’s Council had come to gloat.
Chapter Nine
Killian demands my presence? A knot of anxiety formed in Evren’s gut. Damn, that can’t be good!
His mind raced a
s he hurried down Death Row, toward the gate that led into the Defender’s Tier. When the blacksmith had first given him the assignment within Arch-Guardian Suroth’s household, he had insisted that they communicate through the Mumblers. He’d only summon Evren to the forge if something truly dire had occurred.
As dire as the Arch-Guardian winding up dead, perhaps?
Killian had placed Evren within Suroth’s household to get information on one of the highest-ranked men in Shalandra. Suroth’s death meant Evren no longer had access to the Keeper’s Councilor—or to the Vault of Ancients, which only Suroth could access. Hailen had convinced him to throw in his lot with the Night Guild thief, Kodyn, but he still had to figure out how to keep his relationship with the blacksmith mutually beneficial.
The light of the setting sun bathed the mansions of the Keeper’s Tier in a brilliant red glow, which seemed to make the edges of the golden sandstone buildings appear sharper and harsher than the last time he’d been here. The guards at the gate to the Defender’s Tier studied him for longer than usual before letting him through. The late-afternoon traffic had thickened, slowing movement to a ponderous pace.
Evren stifled a frustrated growl as he dodged a slave-borne litter and ducked between two empty merchant carts rumbling down Death Row. The Defender’s Tier had a subdued, almost muted atmosphere, the low hum of quiet conversations broken only by the occasional laugh of a playing child or the tromp, tromp of heavy Indomitable boots on the sandstone.
As always, Evren remained wary of his surroundings, scanning the crowds for any sign of pursuit. Years as a thief on the streets of Vothmot had trained him to look for hidden threats everywhere. He hadn’t just had to worry about fellow thieves, rival gangs, and the Wardens of the Mount—the Lecterns, priests of the Master’s Temple, had pursued him as well.
Crucible of Fortune: An Epic Fantasy Young Adult Adventure (Heirs of Destiny Book 2) Page 7